Closer, Closer, Closer
by Vanille Romaine
Summary: The first sign was the tears in her eyes. Max rarely cried. She was the Maximum Ride! Strong, intelligent, incredibly beautiful Maximum Ride. Max's breakdown from Fang's POV.


**Disclaimer:** Do I look like James Patterson to you? Some dialogue copied from the SOF book.

**AN:** First try at a Maximum Ride story, so please tell me what you think!

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**Closer, Closer, Closer**

* * *

The first sign was the tears in her eyes.

Max rarely cried. She was _the_ Maximum Ride! Strong, intelligent, and incredibly beautiful Maximum Ride. (But like I'd ever tell her that I thought she was beautiful. The flock would never let me live it down.)

And when she did, that was cause for worry.

So, to catch her attention, I said, "Yo."

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening.

Suddenly, I felt an irrepressible urge to slowly and painfully murder the bastard who'd made her so miserable. "You okay?" I asked. "Is this a headache?"

Max nodded, then wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yeah," she replied. "A huge, freaking, unbearable _headache!_" She was practically shrieking by the time she finished her sentence.

The flock stared at her, wondering what was going on. She ignored them all and muttered, "See you at the beach."

Oh no.

Max hunched her shoulders, then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Damn it.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Of course, Max had left us before, to go off and be someone's avenging angel (pun intended). I worried about her, of course, but I was never actually _scared_.

But Max had never actually flown off _crying_ and looking like she was at the end of her rope.

I was scared. Big time.

"Fang?" Angel's soft whisper brought me out of my thoughts. "Is Max sick?"

I looked at her, into her big blue eyes filled with fright. Max's baby, my baby, everyone's baby—this blonde-haired little cherub could snap a full-grown man's spine in two. She'd beaten up Erasers twice her size without even thinking.

She was scared too.

I didn't reply, but the grim expression on my face must've been a sufficient answer for Angel, because she let out a soft, barely audible sob.

It took us twenty minutes to catch up to Max. Damn that new superpower of hers!

I kept thinking, _What's got you so upset, Max? Is it Jeb? Ari? The Voice?_ Whatever it was, it was _so_ at the top of my 'Need to Slowly and Painfully Kill' list.

It was easy to spot Max, even from the air—a lone figure kneeling in the sand near the water's edge, hair being tossed by the wind.

It took a few seconds for the bitter, coppery scent of blood to reach me.

I tucked my wings in tighter and zipped to the ground like a spear, allowing my wings to expand at just the right moment. Without even looking back to see if the flock was still with me, I began running towards Max.

As I neared her, I could see what she was doing. She was holding a chipped shell in one hand, her blood staining the sharp edges. A long gash extended the length of her upper arm, bleeding profusely.

_Oh God, Max. _

"What the hell are you doing?!" I snarled, grabbing her wrist and smacking away the shell. My heart was pumping so fast, I thought it might burst. "Are you _crazy?!_"

Max glared at me, but then, as the rest of the flock approached slowly, the fight went out of her. Her wings drooped as more tears welled up in her beautiful eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight—Maximum Ride, broken.

"Want the chip out," she whispered desolately.

"Look where you're cutting!" I shouted. _Max, you didn't need to do this!_"You're going to bleed to death, you _idiot!_"

I was trembling as I removed the backpack from my shoulders. _You could have told us what was wrong, Max. We'd have helped you!_ I rummaged around in the backpack, yanking out the First Aid kit. I flipped it open and grabbed the bottle of antiseptic. My hand was shaking so hard, I poured too much antiseptic on Max's arm. She winced.

"Max," whispered Nudge, kneeling down beside me. She was trembling too. "What were you doing?"

"I wanted to get the chip out," Max murmured.

Anger flared inside me. "Well, forget it!" I growled, ripping open a package of bandages. "The chip stays in." I began bandaging her arm, my hands gentle despite my tone. "You don't get off that easy! _You_ die when _we_ die!"

Max looked up at me. Do you see it, Max? Angel, Gazzy, Nudge, Iggy—do you see their fear? Do you see how much we love you? Do you know how much you mean to all of us?

_You fucking scared me, Max. _

Then, she burst into tears.

Not silent, barely noticeable tears like a while ago. This was a full-out, tears-falling-down-the-face, emotional-overload sob-fest.

Instantly, my anger dissipated. Instinctively, I pulled Max into my arms.

She drew her wings in and leaned against me, clinging to me as if I was the last port in a storm. Gently, I smoothed a hand over her hair. _It's alright, Max. I'm here. I'm right here. We're all right here._

In the midst of all the emotions roiling inside me, I could distinctly feel my rage. Rage for the scientists at the School, who all thought we were just a bunch of guinea pigs for their sick, twisted experiments. Rage for Jeb Batchelder and Anne Walker, who had betrayed us all—who had betrayed _her_. Rage toward whoever it was that put the chip in her arm. Rage for the Voice, who expected her to save the world.

Soon, the others joined in. Gently, they patted her back, stroked her hair. "Shh, shh," murmured Nudge softly.

"It's okay, Max," soothed Iggy. He sounded shaken. "Everything's okay."

No, it wasn't. Nothing was okay. Except that we all had each other. I could feel Max nod against my shoulder, and I think she felt the same way I did.

After a while, Max gently pulled away from me. "Sorry, guys," she murmured. She sounded embarrassed, and I'm pretty sure she was.

Total came over and rested his head on Max's leg, big black eyes filled with sympathy. Beside the dog, the Gasman was looking at Max with fright. "We didn't _have_ to go to the beach, Max."

Max choked out a laugh. She reached out and ruffled Gazzy's hair, saying, "It wasn't that, Gazzy. Just other stuff, getting to me."

"Like what?" asked Iggy.

Max sighed, wiping her eyes. "Stuff," she said softly. "The Voice in my head. Everyone chasing us. School. Anne. Ari. Jeb. They keep telling me I'm supposed to save the world, but how, and from what, I don't even know."

Oh, Max.

Oh my dear, dear Max.

* * *

We sat in the same spot, Max and me. Angel and Gazzy were swimming in the ocean, while Total watched them from the waterline. Iggy and Nudge were walking down the beach, picking up shells of different shapes and sizes.

As I packed away the remaining bandages, I looked at Max and said, "So, what was that about?"

Max looked at me, her eyes dry but incredibly sad. "I'm just—really tired," she confessed. "The Voice was ragging on me about my destiny and how I have to get on the stick about saving the world. It just feels like too much sometimes. I've been running on adrenaline, without a master plan. Every day it's just, keep the flock safe, keep us together. But now everything else has been dumped on me, all these bits and pieces that aren't adding up to a whole picture, and it's too much."

"Pieces like Ari and Anne and Jeb and the Voice?" I asked.

"Yeah." Max nodded. "Everything. Everything that's happened to us since we let home. I don't even know what to do, and it's so freaking hard even pretending that I do."

"Walk away from it," I said. "Let's find an island. Drop off the scene."

"That sounds really good," said Max, the ghost of a smile flitting on her face. "But we'd have to get the others on board. I'm sure the younger kids still really want to find their parents. And now I want to find out what this company is that Angel heard about." She paused for a moment, then spoke again. "What if you do research on the island possibility and I'll focus on the other stuff?"

"Yeah, cool."

We were both silent for a while, watching the kids play. I thought about the island. It sounded oh-so idyllic. We'd have a little place deep in the jungle, maybe right next to a small spring of cool, clear water. The beach just a short walk away—sun, sand, and surf 24/7. We'd be far away from Jeb, Anne, Erasers, the School, and anything else that could ever hurt us.

No more worries, no more cares. Hakuna matata.

"Fang?"

"Yes?" I looked up at her.

"Sorry. About before." She met my gaze for a moment, not really expecting me to say anything.

Not a chance. "You almost gave me a heart attack," I said quietly. "When I saw you…and all that blood…" I trailed off, not really wanting to relive that scene, one of the scariest things I'd ever seen in my life.

"I'm sorry," Max repeated softly.

"Don't do it again."

I could see her swallow. "I won't."

Something changed, right then and there.

Slowly, I leaned forward. She leaned forward.

Oh God. Were we actually going to…would we…

Closer, closer, closer. Max had shut her eyes.

My heart was doing a little dance in my chest. I wondered if Max could hear it.

The moment was broken when Angel, standing in knee-high water, suddenly cried out, "Hey! I can talk to fish!"

Sigh. Oh well.


End file.
